


No LIght No LIght- inspired by Florence + the Machine

by sherlockgreywhosessed



Series: Johnlock as inspired by songs [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bathing/Washing, Dress Up, Drug Use, Ejaculate, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Lingerie, Love Confessions, Lovely, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Original Character Death(s), Playing Doctor, Rutting, Star-crossed, Suicide, cross- dressing, man in lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockgreywhosessed/pseuds/sherlockgreywhosessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finds himself back to old habits. He gets into trouble. John is there to rehabilitate him. But he harbors a secret in league with Mycroft against his wife, Mary Moisten. She is a major threat to Sherlock. They will bring her down, but John has to keep Sherlock out of the loop for his own safety, for once.<br/>The star-crossed lovers have a miscommunication, and, well, I hated to do it but the story worked. Just not for our beloved characters....</p>
            </blockquote>





	No LIght No LIght- inspired by Florence + the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the lyrics which will be Italicized unless the formatting doesn't match up. I will not profit financially from borrowing the song.  
> I do not own the characters and these depictions are not for monetary gain but just from my imagination and what I was inspired to do with a song.
> 
> ********If cross-dressing, cum shots, suicide by guns, drug use*******  
> Are triggers then please do not read the story.  
> Adding that for Sherlock the drugs and cross-dressing go hand in hand I mean solely for his character structure, not cross dressers or drug users in general.
> 
> I love Johnlock, this story just came to me. Some may hate me for it but there you go.

John is married. John is married. John is married. No matter how Sherlock tried to accept it he just couldn't. John had chosen Mary. When Sherlock came back from the dead he had done everything in his power to help John and Mary with the wedding even though from the first time he met her he 'read' that she was not who she seemed. Still, things with John had a rocky beginning when he returned , and he wouldn't listened anyway. But really, did John not notice her ability to understand different languages, that she had no past, Sherlock wondered if he even saw the secret tattoo or if John even cared. John had needed excitement, danger, the thrill of the chase. Sherlock gave him those. From their first case together Sherlock and John just clicked. The only line left to cross was physical intimacy.

Mary meant easy-peasy, nothing 'abnormal'. No, she hid all of her danger and excitment under that Nurse ruse. Seriously, had John never questioned why she worked in a local GP office when she was such a linguist? 

Was Sherlock in John's head? Definitely yes. Always.  
Was Sherlock in John's heart? Most ardently  
.  
Who knows how things would have turned out had Sherlock not left. They were definitely a 'couple' but up to that one point. That single point. But, Sherlock put forth all his effort and then some to make the wedding happen. He stood at the altar while John said those two little words to Mary, then there was the Best Man speech and then played for them a waltz he had composed himself with his violin ... his violin is an extension of his body, his heart. And he sacraficed it for John. That Best Man speech may as well have been a good-bye letter- Sherlock literally took his heart out, stabbed it, and bled out his love for John for the whole world to see. He had tried all he could to show John how he felt. 

And then there was the moment when he made that 'extra deduction'... the baby. That made his heart break completely and felt every emotion any man has ever felt. When he looked at John and he looked back-for a split second that they understood each other, then John looked away. That baby was the one thing in the entire world he could never give to John. He knew John would do the honorable thing and stay with Mary, at least until the baby was born. Sherlock already had his doubts that the baby was even John's. Did John even want to be a Father in the first place?

And after watching the glowing couple, now plus one, he left. He just fucking left. They would be leaving for their Fuck Holiday or as John would correct him 'Honeymoon' he being ever the gentleman. Make Sherlock's skin crawl to think about John making love to Mary, all of it. He was so depressed. Felt cast aside. And that's how he started back into his drugs. He hadn't used in years, but what he was going thru was more than a nicotine patch problem. The drugs and the dresses went hand in hand, for Sherlock. Not everyone who cross-dresses uses drugs, he felt he was the only one who had that issue. No one really knew except for Mycroft, that their Uncle was not the only cross dresser in the family. Well, DI Lestrade knew. Sherlock had been picked up once or twice dressed up. He did it when he wanted to get away from himself, some attention, that high. John use to give him that high. That's why it was so easy giving up smoking for him. When Sherlock wanted to go out, he liked to pretend he was a rich socialite who got lost on the way home from a party. No wigs since he kept his hair long, it was just a matter of styling it. Sometimes he would buy the occasional dress or lipstick if the shade jumped out at him from a shop window. 

Tonight he decided on a Emerald green satin dress. Red lips and just a little blush. Enough to distort his features slightly. His heels had been dyed to match the dress.He had tracked down his old drug supplier through his 'homeless network'. So easy. Before he actually used he agonized over it. It was not a hasty decision. He had no John to tell him he was amazing, spectacular, a git, that he was worth something, that he was cared for and not to be so stupid to do something that would ruin his career, ruin everything they had worked so hard to build. But... there was no 'they' anymore. And at the moment Sherlock wanted the hurt to go away. When he left the flat, a mink stole over his shoulders, he already knew he would tell Mrs. Hudson he had a fancy dress to attend.

Being high, plus all the cat calls, the attention, the passsers-by making him feel like the rarest find in all of England made his high even bigger. He did look striking... that green satin against his pale marble skin and that dark hair.He remembers walking, and last thing he remembers was chatting up some guys in a pub a few blocks away from Baker St. When he was found by police, he was in an alley, in the rain, display like a rag doll on some worn out couch. Lestrade was over him at one point and talking.He knew he was going to be transported by ambulance when he attempted to move and nothing happened except a searing, horrible pain in various parts of his body. Sherlock tried to hold on to his consciousness but it was slipping, and when he heard Lestrade mention calling John, Sherlock tried to protest but nothing came out. He rode the wave of drugs and whatever else was in his system and would handle the rest later.

When they got to St. Barts, they hurridly put Sherlock in a private room. Neither Lestrade nor Mycroft wanted this in the press. For the saks of Sherlock's career and also for theirs. The Holmes reputation was already one that immediately brought to mind the younger brother, always needing help. And all his hours of consulting for the NSY could be called into question. Mycroft had called John. It had been about 3 weeks since Sherlock and John had seen or heard from eachother. Sure Sherlock could have called someone if he thought about starting this kind of thing again. There was Molly, Mycroft, Lestrade, hell even Mrs. Hudson!! But the one person he needed desperately was John. And for the first time in his life he let his pride, timidity and embarassment keep him from reaching out to him.

When John reached the hospital he asked to be let right in. He didn't even talk with Mycroft or Lestrade but the men understood why. John pulled the curtain away slowly and was taken aback by the picture in front of him. Sherlock was being triaged. Blood pressure, temperature, and oxygen levels. An IV was placed into his left hand although it was a tough stick due to his lack of hydration. John told the nurses that he had attending priviledges at the hospital and he would complete the assessment. Sherlock is still in the green silk dress, now dark because of the rain. John pulled back the blanket to get the whole view. He tried his best to stay in professional Dr. Watson mode.  Green satin dress, ripped.Blood and possibly semen on dress front. Then he lifted the detective slowly up so that he could remove the dress. Patient has laceration on forehead, superficial. Lip is swollen and bleeding from what looks like a possible back handed slap. Patient wearing make-up on eyes, cheeks and smudged on mouth. Patient is also wearing a blace lace silk bra and panty set. The thong panty seems to be ripped. Scratches and a few bite marks on chest torso. None punctured the skin. The doctor rolled the patient on his side. Scratches and bite marks on the back. A mix of what could be blood and semen on the upper inner thigh. Unknown at this time of it belongs to patient. John covered Sherlock and made sure he was comfortable before the nurses went back in. John spoke with the physician on the floor, and then left Sherlock to talk with Lestrade and Mycroft.

"What the fuck happend Greg? I mean, Mycroft don't you have the whole of London on survelliance for fucks sake?! He's.... not in very good shape but as long as all his scans come back alright he should be in the clear. Whether the sex was consensual or not he needs to be tested and given all the necesssary shots against STDs... Jesus! And he is in a dress?! I just don't...." the man took a seat and shook his head.

"John, what appears to have happened is that Sherlock scored his cocaine sometime during the day. Later on that night, he went out and started walking and disappeared into a pub a few blocks down. A few hours later,three men were seen walking with him and helping him into the car. A few hours after that, they went down a 'no outlet' alley and dumped what looked like a party doll on the couch there. Once we made the connection  
we went to investigate and there he was." Greg Lestrade was nothing if efficient. He cared about Sherlock and he knew Mycroft needed a word with John, alone. He excused himself and left for a smoke.

"Mycroft... please help me to understand what is going on here because... to think about what probably happened to him tonight... just makes me want to put my fist thru a wall and go hunt down every motherfucker,that touched him tonight..." John's voice was quiet and his eyes were red rimmed as if he kept fighting back tears that demanded be let free.

"John, Sherlock's cross-dressing is of no real concern to us. His drug use, however, is. When he was younger had this talent to 'read' people and without invitation would tell them what he saw... often times to his detriment. He believed that he was helping people. As you can imagine his younger school years were hell for him. Eventually I taught him how to use his gift as a weapon against those who would try to bully or embarrass him. I found him a few times in Mummy's dresses, but, to each his own. When he went to University he relished in experiements involving what was the 'perfect solution'... he had been arrested by Lestrade once during an experiment with a 12% solution. That's how they met. The DI knew best to call me once he found out that he was a 'Holmes'. Finally Sherlock found that his solution was '7%', but I told him he would not have access to his money if he wasted it all on drugs. He went to a rehab facility after his second drug arrest. They did not want him there any longer than necessary. He told the therapist he did not feel his cross-dressing warranted therapy... but it was during that stay that he did realize he was homosexual. He didn't feel his drug use and his sexuality were linked. Some would argue otherwise. Still, once he was clean Lestrade asked him to consult on cases and there you have it. I think tonight was a revelation night... and he behaved reckless as a result."

"What do you mean Mycroft?"

"John, you cannot be this thick headed. Sherlock is in love with you. I think he has been from the beginning... he dismantled Moriarty's crime web to protect you, thinking only of you for 2 lonely years, and then comes back to find you getting enganged to a woman you barely know. Then you get married. And are expecting a baby. Think how much that must have hurt him. To be the one cast aside. The unchosen. He's alone for the first time in almost 5 years, and its not by choice... he may be headed for a breakdown, I don't know... I'm sure he'll want you to go back to Baker St, but I don't know if that's such a great idea- you must keep up this ruse marriage to Mary a little longer. You know the damage she can do to Sherlock and now he is the one needing protection."

"Mycroft, first of all fuck you for blaming this all on me! Don't you think that has already passed thru my head? I love that man Mycroft and you know it. I know we cannot tell him about this operation to take Mary down, but he is hurting himself. And it is killing me. And you must let me take care of him during his recovery. Please Mycroft. You know anyone else you send will be gone in tears by the end of her shift if not sooner.Don't worry about Mary... she won't suspect anything suspicious. You must let me do this. Just set me up with everything I ask for."

"Fine, John. I will give you a few days with him. Then we evaluate and if necessary he'll go back to rehab."

It had been a few days stay at hospital, and now he was back at Baker St. Mycroft had sent over all the equipment and other medical things so that  John could help Sherlock get back on his feet from his own home. As the people came and went, John was remembering his time there at 221B. He also thought back to his wedding night, the trigger must have been the screensaver on his phone from the wedding. But that night, his wedding night, he wasn't able to make love to Mary. He missed Sherlock, he missed going home to Baker St. and it was just too much at the time. He just told her he was tired. Sherlock had really surprised him that day with his speech... sharing 'their stories' with everyone and telling him he loved him. When John stood to hug him, he didn't want to let go. In the church during the service he wanted so badly to turn to Sherlock to say those binding words. But things are as they are at the moment, hopefully to improve soon. He wanted to be with Sherlock more than anything... but he needed to protect him from Mary, which had him playing a double agent to a degree.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was thinking about cocaine. When where how to get it. He wondered if he still had the stash in the bathroom... was extremely potent and meant to be had in small doses. And he thought about John, hiding in the kitchen. He was both comforted and annoyed he was here as his 'nurse'. He should be here as his husband if things had turned out his way. John is naturally curious so how did she keep him from snooping? Ah! Sex! That woman probably uses sex to distract him from thinking too much about her and her past. She probably came off as inexperienced at first since John loves to 'teach' in bed and then her adventurous side came out and she initiates kinky or light BDSM activities. He understood the Chemistry of sexual attraction and intercourse, the Biology of it. Two people connected by pheremones who want to fuck. He got that. But why her?! Was John really so desperate or so blind that he cannot see what shereally is?

When the last person left, John came into the sitting room with two mugs of tea.

"Do say whats on  your mind, ask your questions or whatever just so we can get it overwith".... Sherlock spat out in a harsh tone.

"Hold the fucking phone- you KNOW I have questions you git! Let's see- start with the dress, the drugs or all of the above?!" John matched his tone, and raised it.

"The dress is none of your concern. Yes I am ashamed of my actions that led me to the circumstances I was found in... but Im not sorry about the drugs."

"Not sorry about the drugs?- tha hell is wrong with you? You're Sherlock Bloody Holmes and as clever as it gets- why? why?! why would you get involved in all that again? You should have reached out to me-" Sherlock cut him off.

"Reached out to you? What, on your Fuck Holiday? John, l am tired of playing games with you. I know that we love eachother. I know we are passionate about one another. I know we want to be together and we can John. Why do you insist on staying with Mary? What will happen to me then? You were my 7% solution John... and now you arent here anymore. Im so alone, so fucking alone and not by choice and it is killing me..."

Sherlock hung his head as if to cry... John thought it was maybe a sid effect of the drugs. He wanted to tell him all. Everything. But he could only give enough to hold Sherlock until the mission was over,and play Mary without her thinking he was wanting to be with Sherlock. John cleared his throat.

"Sherlock, you know I... I'm not good at stuff like this... but of course I care for you. Always have.... Now on the caring form ot says that you need a sponge bath. How about you go get  comfortable while I set up and then come  ll you can have your bath, then lunch, meds and rest. "

Sherlock did as he was told went to his room to get naked and wrap up in a robe. John meanwhile was setting up a special 'tub' that allowed for less spillage and could be set up anywhere. He got the warm water, cloths and dry towel.The fire was also going in the sitting room to stave off the cold. Sherlock walked out looking sexy as hell, in a silk robe that left nothing to the imagination at all. He disrobed and stepped in. John spoke in his best doctor voice. Sounded to Sherlock like he was overcompensating.

"Genereally the bath is given from head to toe. The water is warm but not hot, you can't submerge many of your injuries so we need to be careful. I'll start with your hair and then your head and face areas in need."

John got up on his knees and gently squeezed the water over Sherlock's thick hair. He wanted so much to put both hands into those curls. He carefully patted the forehead wound and the one to Sherlock's lip. He turned the man's face towards him and felt Sherlock's eyes watching him, touching his lip. John could hear the detective's breath and the hissss sound the man made as he rubbed a little too hard on his lip. Next  section was the chest and torso. John was kneeling facing Sherlock who had manuevered his hands behind him on the sides to prop himself up. John leaned in and gingerly wiped and patted each scratch, sometimes stopping to clean out the rag and to get it wet again. The act of being bathed was mindblowing to Sherlock. Here he was completely exposed, completely vulnerable... letting the only person he has ever truly trusted to take care of him. Nothing about it was sexual in how John was handling it- but it was nonetheless intimate. He cleansed the two spots that needed stitches near his ribs. Patted over the teeth marks and scratches.Under his arms.Rubbed down the inside of both thighs and his penile region.Then he went to the back. His alabaster skin was littered with bruises and bites, his hips had perfect bruises where hands and finger tips held on so tightly while they... John couldn't bring himself to think about it. He thought Sherlock was a virgin, and if anyone was going to be given that gift he wanted it to be him. Sherlock lifted up so John could rinse his arse and the back of his thighs. John began to quietly cry as he saw more bruises and bite marks. Fucking animals! John yelled in his mind.

Without turning around Sherlock said in a hushed voice "I'm... I'm so sorry John... I would never want you to see me like this... I'm sorry" and tears were rolling down his face. John got a towel from near the fire and wrapped up Sherlock nice and tight. He led him to the sofa and wrapped his arm around him.

"Don't ever apologise to me for something some animal did... or anything for that matter... Sherlock I care about you and what happens to you... you never have to hide from me. Ever. I just wish I could kill the fuckers who did this to you...". John kissed the top of his head.

"John, the sex was consensual.... one offered sex and I was so hungry... for something I could never have with the one person I wanted it with, the only one... but I was high...I didn't know the invotation involved all three having their way with me. I didn't feel much because I was so out of it. I was so desperate... and alone... I need you John... I want... YOU" And with that he placed his lips to John's. 

John wanted more of this man,to show him how loving and spiritual sex can be! But he couldn't. If Mary found out the operation would fail. He can have Sherlock when its all over. He kissed back, gently seeing as how Sherlock must have forgotten about his lip wound- and let the detective rest awhile with his head on John's chest. They say in silence for a long while. John realized that Sherlock was asleep, the meds had finally kicked in and he should be good until morning. When he got home to Mary he was very vague about Sherlock. She offered sex and he took it. That night as he took her from behind he had to catch himself before he called out Sherlock's name as he came.

Bright and early John was back at the flat, surprised to see Sherlock already awake. His disposition was different today. One could almost call it 'happy' or 'jovial'. It unnerved John just a little but he went with it. Clearly he had been occupied with something.

"John... I've been trying to figure out why you are still with Mary despite all you know and also don't know about her... my two conclusions are sex and working with Mycroft, obviously not at the same time. So, for the first. I think Mary has ensnared you with sex almost since you met. At the beginning she seemed shy, like a nut you had to crack open, and you love the thrill of the chase. Then as things progressed,and I came back from the dead- she upped her game. She was more willing to try new things in bed, right? A little naughtier, kinkier? Think of how many nights we had case work and you were called home for a nonemergency issue and she ended up initiating sex to get you to stay. .. then... then... I think she picked up that you and I had feelings for each other which scared her, it ruined her plans. So she started letting you have her arse, didn't she? She handed you the forbidden fruit. And since you weren't having it with the one person you wanted it with, hi thats me, you accepted. But its always me in your head isn't it John?", he walked across the room and was now in John's personal space, "and I think its time for my sponge bath... please."

Fuck. John felt a heavy hot pooling happening between his legs. Sherlock was right about it all. And now he wanted his bath. How the fuck could he be professional now after the kissing last night, the imagery now in his mind of fucking Sherlock and now he'll be naked and ready to be bathed?? John took a few deep breaths. Tried to think about anything he could that did not involve Sherlock. Or his ass. Or his cock. Or his mouth.Shit this isn't working, John signed heavily.

"Listen, Sherlock I think maybe you can do your own bath, at least for the front and I can handle the back , how does that sound?"  
John shouted down the hall toward the other man's room.

"Sounds good doctor, I can never ge those hard to reach places on my back.".

John bit his finger after Sherlock passed him. No robe today. Just him in all his pale glory. He got into the tub.

"Could you please at least sit in my chair close by to monitor and make sure I'm getting everything?" His smile was so innocent. Poor John, little did he know.

Sherlock started at the top and did a decent job, John directed him to the various wounds in places Sherlock could easily miss. Only one more area to clean up here.

" Would it be alright to use soap on my penis?" He asked directly.

"Uh, um yes... s, sure. Let me grab you what the hospital sent." He tossed it to Sherlock.

Sherlock got his cock nice and foamy. His eyes never left John's.

"John, Ive never let anyone watch me... touch myself before... do y-you like to wh watch? Mmmm". Sherlock was moaning and arching his back as he spoke. His eyes almost hidden by his wet hair.

JOhn was hard, and growing. He tried to readjust, but his pants were becoming  uncomfortingly tight. "You want me to watch you get one off, is that it?" He gave Sherlock a smirk. "On one condition."

"Anything John, anything!!"

"Describe to me what you're wanking to... you look so fucking gorgeous right now... I want to imagine  what you do at the same time." As John took out his cock, thick and wide in his hand Sherlock let out a whimper and licked his lips.

"I'm imagining getting down on my knees, licking your fat cock up and down.... oh fuck.... then you'd be in my mouth and holding onto my hair while you fuck my face.... ohhhh shit John... and then... and then you'd pull out, and jerk yourself off all over my chest.... oh god oh god John. .. now you... take us over the top!"

Sherlock was a writhing mess, his legs spread wide as he pumped and fucked his fist to match John's pace.

"Sherlock, I can't stop thinking anout how wide your legs are spread... wide enough for... me.... I'd fill your arse with my fingers and let you fuck yourself on them.... oh holy fuck im close... im so close.... ah and then instead of the sssss soap I see running down into your arse crack, my cock would be filling you up so so deep and I have so much cum just waiting for you.... onlllly you it would be pouring out just like that!!!"

Now the only sounds were the men groaning and switching between panting and holding their breath.

"Im so fucking close Sherlock... I want to fuck you so much oh oh oh" and John close his eyes out of reflex.

"Keep, keep your eyes on me John!! This is all for you... nnone of what happened matters anymore.... oh oh oh fuucccccckkkkk ah aha ah John John J John mmmmmm" Sherlock came the hardest of his life. Ribbons and ribbons all over his torso and hand.

"Sherlock!! ah fuck oh god oh god I don't know how to live without you you beautiful amazing oh oh fuck I I" John had to stop himself before he said the words he longed to say, but mus twait to. His orgasm just would not stop. It blew his mind.

When both men could actually walk, they went into the shower together and cleaned up. They laughed and Sherlock nuzzled his neck, leaving little kisses from his shoulder to the crookof his neck. This was heaven.Having John there was heaven. He knew they were standing just inches from his secret stash, the whole thing could kill a horse, but Sherlock actually considered flushing it the next day. He had his John back. All was right with the world. As the laid in bed after the shower, Sherlock's meds led him to sleep again. John quietly slid out of the cucoon they were in and left the flat. He felt the warmth from their cucoon all the way home.Mary asked why his hair was wet, he told her an experiment went wrong and he didn't want to come home with chemicals on him with the baby and all. Mary tried to initiate sex, but John wasn't in the mood. Mary found this to be suspicious. Oh well. They watched telly and went to bed at a reasonable time. Like every other old couple they know.

John went to the flat the next morning, not knowing what to expect from the detective living there that he called his 'friend'. The past few days had been exhausting but exhilairating and confusing. He loved Sherlock with his whole heart. And soul. John had talked to Mycroft on his way to Baker St. and the man assured him that the next day they would take her down. Mary would be in custody where she would be heavily monitored until the baby arrived and depending on her crimes, John would have to decide on foster care, or possibly raising the child with Sherlock... maybe he could test the waters about that today. Mycroft also reminded him how how delicate these next 24 hours were, and that he needed to stay the course. And then Sherlock would be his and all the hidden truths could come out.

When John walked into the flat he was shocked. All the lights were off, and on this cloudy, rainy day all that he could see was a trail of candles and petals leading to Sherlock's room. John froze. He knew what this meant. If he followed their lead he and Sherlock would cross that line... and no going back.... As soon as his footfall made it into the flat he heard Sherlock call out from his bedroom.

"I'm in here, John. Have a surprise for you." Usually that meant severed heads or something to do with maggots. When we walked into Sherlock's room, he was speechless. His mouth fell open in disbelief.

"Well... what do you think John?"

Sherlock had transformed his room into some sort of Great Gatsby themed heaven. His bed had more pillows and a fluffier duvet in John's favorite color, blue. He had hung tiny star mirrors, and clouds and the walls were draped in a sumptuous velvet. There was a wet bar set up in the corner, a little chandelier to give off the light to make the mirror stars twinkle. But, most of all, there was Sherlock. There he was , standing with a martini in his hand. He was wearing a V-neck 1920's inspired silk dress with a little lace peeking from the bottom and at the V. It was a deep red. His hair was parted and his bangs brushed to the left, held in place with two silver clips. His was wearing black flats. His  nails were painted and matched his lips. His eyeshadow was subtle. The eyeliner and mascara made his eyes really 'pop'. He looked around like a child hoping their parent would approve of their latest project.

"Sherlock- I... I.... it's..."

"Oh god I knew this was too much. Im sure the dress is too much and the bed is the wrong shade-" John kissed Sherlock. The feeling of lipstick was familiar, but on a man it was so wrong but also so fucking sexy. His hands slid down the dress, pressing Sherlock's arse into him and feeling something underneath. Sherlock moaned into John's mouth.

"Sherlock this is... you are... amazing... fantastic... just wow! You did all this?!

"I had various favors to call on and some pf my homeless network. I wanted this to be special for us today. I feel wonderful, I have you again, but in my arms and I never want to let you go!"

Sherlock was squeezed to  John for dear life.... John was reciting in his head ' just keep the lie one more day, one more day.' It was killing him! He had never had so much anxiety at once before. He didn't know how he kept this up between Sherlock and Mary, each thinking they were John's one and only.

"I thought we might be able to eat brunch later, after we've worked up an appetite. What do you think John? Can I make you hungry? I know what I'm hungry for Dr. Watson".

Sherlock shifted their stance to where Sherlock backed into the bed, so plump and soft. He could not believe he had done all this- for him. He was just 'John'... except to Sherlock. With Sherlock splayed on the bed, in that dress falling in all the right places, it was like he was with a woman. But those eyes and sinewy yet toned arms reminded him he was exactly where he wanted to be. If Sherlock trusted him with this cross-dressing 'kink' then it was his duty to at least entertain the idea. Who was he to judge?  
John took off Sherlock's really classy shoes, one at a time. Then he ran his hand up and down each thigh which were covered in black stockings held by a garter belt. Sherlock really paid attention to details didn't he?

"Sherlock, may I remove your garters and stockings?"

"Acutally its 'Miss Watson' , Sir. And Yes, you may remove them. I do need a full physical check up and was hoping you could be my doctor. Be gentle, please".

That 'please' business had his cock already half hard. Sherlock was looking at him so wryly. They were both loving it, both playing the game. John warmed his hands and unsnapped each stocking, taking the time to roll each one down his legs and off. When they were off, he would inspect the toes and the legs up to the thighs. Sherlock's breath hitched. The satin dress was now pushed up around his waste. He looked up at Sherlock.

"Now Miss Watson, you know what kind of doctor I am, and the services I provide. Are you still content with those terms? Would you like a safe word?" John's face tried to mock being a stuffy old fashioned  doctor, but he was blushing so much it was travelling from his chest up to his face. Sherlock was surprised.

"A, a , 'safe word'? How absurd! I trust you doctor... now give me what you think I need"....

Sherlock finished pulling off the dress to reveal a deep purple satin brallette set. John's mouth hung open and he began to salivate. This was so fucking kinky. So wonderfully Sherlock. And he knew what the man wanted.But before they could startd John excused himself to the restroom to freshen up. He saw he had a text from Mary.

"John, are you at Baker St.?? Need to talk to you.Mary"

"Can we talk tonight? You know he gets. So clingy and needy at the moment. Everything ok? I miss you xo" JW

John was so fucking over this faking. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Focus on Tomorrow!!!!

"Look should I just come over there? Would be nice to say hello to Sherlock, been awhile."Mary

"NO! No, seriously. You're pregnant and he was unstable.Please let him be selfish with his 'John time' and we'll talk at dinner.Its crazy here, glad I have you and the baby. Love you more than anything or anyone. See you tonight- if you know what I mean " JW

"You naughty boy... you want this arse dont you.... I'll be ready...see you soon xxx" Mary

He he hoped she was kidding. He hated all the lying and faking. Made him feel sick. But at least he had this time with Sherlock. He freshed up, put hid phone on silent and went into the room. Sherlock had a bored look on his face. John hoped haden't ruined anything.

"Now Miss Watson, I'm going to need to check your tongue to make sure its in good working order. Please crawl acoss the bed to me."

Sherlock crawled across the bed, like a panther. John took his face in his hands and kissed him. Kissed away all his stress and worry. Lapping at eachother's tongues and pressing their lips together so hard John would be surprised if he had any lipstick left. It was probably smeared all over John. John's hands glided thru Sherlock's hair, taking out the clips. His hands roamed over the satin straps, barely hanging on to his thin shoulders.Fuck was he beautiful. John's heart rate had increased. Sherlock broke the kiss with a pant.

"Doctor I would like to do another test on the wellness of my tongue.... may I suck your dick? Please oh please say yes, doctor" and he batted his lashes and palmed the doctor's semi-erection thru his pants.

John groaned at the contact and the request. As his head hung back, Sherlock opened John's pants and freed him. In an instant Sherlock was covering the older man's cock with his whole mouth. He was aggressive in his tongue strokes, ardently eager to taste his companion. John just moaned an yelled various incomprehensible words and fingered Sherlock's soft hair. God he had a mouth on him. He was about to cum and tapped Sherlock's nead. Sherlock raised his head, caatching his breath. He looked up at John. His face was so relaxed, his mouth is slack.

"John, darling, I want to make your fantasy come true. Your porn predilication seems to be cumming on the face and mouth... do it if you want.... you're safe here, with me". He smiled than went back to his dury at hand.

John could have finished just by listening to Sherlock. As he got closer and he tensed his abdomen muscles and thighs, Sherlock knew he was close. John got up onto his knees, kneeling over Sherlock's chest and practically fucking the man's wanton mouth beneath him. Sherlock grabbed each ass cheek and squeezed, then put one finger into John's hole. John lost it then. He came and came and came.... decorating the beautiful face, and his mouth and hair. John had NEVER been allowed to do that from any girlfriend... that was fuckin amazing! John hoped Mrs. Hudson wouldn't come up to check on them with all the shoutings of 'holy puck i think i'm dying, you sweet beautful Sherlock fuck ooooooooooooo you are amazing!!!'

The men cleaned up. Both exhaulted by the experience. Sherlock, still in the panty set, got out of bed and fetched two glasses of champagne and strawberries. They snuggled and touched and talked. Sherlock asked if he should go back and reapply his makeup... but John said he looked beautiful just the way he was.

They kissed tenderly, then Sherlock asked John in a quiet voice "do you want to keep playing doctor.. or just be ourselves?" His eyes, deeply searching John's.

"Let's be ourselves.... today, being here, is just, so.... right. YOU are my home. I don't want to deny it anymore."

"John, I want you. I want you inside me. To consume me. Adore me. Touch me. Tease me. Fuck me. Make me scream your name! Please John... can we pass through this last door and just finally 'be' with each other? Isn't that what you want?"

John thought a moment. Of course he wanted him  like that! But if Mary came by, he would have caused the mission to fail. With one day to go... But she probably wasn't coming... and this is something they both want.... his carnal drive has overcome him.

"Sherlock Yes. Lie down, please..."

Sherlock lay on the bed with John between his knees. He began kissing his mouth, then travelling down to his neck. He slid the first brallete strap down, lighty skimming Sherlock's skin in a way that gave him goosebumps. John folded down the expensive, thin fabric and found his nipple. He licked it, toyed with it, breathed his warm breath on it, flicked it and finally took it between his teeth for a little nibble. Sherlock was going wild. HIs hands were clawing up John's back. He gave the same treatment to the other nipple, and upon finishing he took off the brallette completly. Then John traveled down Sherlock's milky white skin... kissing here... and there...then landing at his cock that was tenting the silk lace prison of his underwear. John liked over the silk, over the outline of his cock and got it nice and warm and went. Sherlock kept trying to buck up into his mouth. Then John took the wet panty off of him with his teeth and tossed them on the floor. Sherlock briefly wondered how many women that impressed...

Instead of going directly for Sherlock's cock, he got up from the cloud they called a 'bed' and got something out of the wardrobe  he knew was hidden there. Sherlock doesn't give him enough credit for deducing.He went back over to the bed. Sherlocked watched as John slowly unbottoned his shirt, unbuckled his pants, tossed them to the side, and then his underwear. Sherlock's eyes grew bigger and bigger the more skin he saw. John got onto the bed, between Sherlock's legs. He leaned into Sherlock, full skin on skin, their cocks sliding on eachother. Moans and cries and all the saints were called out as they rutted amd grabbed,licked and squeezed. Both men were leaking and the frenzy was high. John backed off and gave them both room to breathe. He didn't want it to end like this.

He got the lube he had retrieved from the wardrobe. He looked at Sherlock. He raised an eye brow, and Sherlock nodded his approval. He got one finger, lubed up, and slid it into Sherlock's waiting hole. He went slow.So slow, remembering what Sherlock had just been through days before. Right now he wanted to show him the way it should be done. Rough sex is great between consenting adults but right now he didn't think that was the time. Sherlock relaxed, allowing John to slide his finger in and out of his body. John got so fucking hard as two fingers went in... then three. By three, Sherlock was sweating slightly, licking his lips in complete lust...completely coming undone right in front of him. The sight was breathtaking. John pulled out his fingers, knowing he was fully ready. This was it. No turning back after this moment. This moment that had been festering between the two of them from the start. He leaned in to kiss Sherlock and rested his forehead on the man.

"Are you ready Sherlock? There is no going back. I can't wait to be so so deep inside you and hear you beg just for me"

"John, I trust you completely. I want to be filled up with you. I want to cry out your name... I've wanted you-always... Im yours John... Im ready love"

John fell back to his knees and lined up with Sherlock's entrance. He slid in with one push. No words could describe what either were feeling. John began to move, slow at first until more muscles relaxed. Sherlock was grabbing for John- wanting as much contact as he could get. His smooth chest rubbed by John's hairer one. Thick thighs thrusting against thinner ones. John was bushier, Sherlock was more groomed. As John continued pumping Sherlock began to pump his cock. It made for an arresting site for both men. John was getting closer. His balls tightened. Sherlock also was closer. A few more pumps and Sherlock came, with the sight of the white streaming out onto puddles was so sexy, all on his chest.

In an almost faint voice Sherlock said as he came 'John John oh god o h god.... i i love you... i love you John Watson... I want you forever oo fuuck oh fuck.....". John felt the tightening around his cock and that was it. The world titled on its axis, he swore he saw stars. "Sh Sherlock fuck I ... mmmmmmm. ah ah ah ah ah I love you!! I love you!! Always!Always! And he faded saying 'love' and 'always' and he then pulled out when the time felt right. They laid there, trying to wrap around the love they just made and for Sherlock everything was complete. For John, it was amazement and terror.... only  a few hours left.... and then they could be like this, for always...

John falls asleep first. Sherlock sees the flashing text light on his phone. He unlocks it. In his horror, he sees the messages from Mary and him, during the time they were just making love... Sherlock feel sick. It must all be a lie. I'm just his side piece. Thru his tears he gets the drugs from below the bathroom boards, dresses and leaves. 

When John wakes he feels something is wrong. He looks for Sherlock everywhere. Nothing. He sees his phone is unlocked and the messages from Mary. Fuck, he thinks, he will have the wrong idea! His last place to look is the roof. 

He opens the door to find an arresting sight. Sherlock is made up again, scarlet lips, dress, and heels to match. The colors against his skin with the dark hair take John's breath away. He sees the drugs syringe, bottle, and box near Sherlock, who is seated in a chair near the edge of the ledge.

"Sherlock what that- please come closer to me, what is going on, love??

 _"You are the hole in my head... you are... the space in my bed. You are the silence in between... what I thought and... what I... said. You are the nighttime fear, you are the morning when it clear... when its over, you're the start... you' re my head..(_ he starts to cry tears that now trail down his face, rolling down over his razor cheekbones and down to his swollen mouth, the mouth John had just found ecstasy with just hours before, finally to meet their watery end on his red gown) _and you're my heart...."_

"Sherlock please, lets go inside and talk about whatever it is you're clearly not in your right mind at the moment so-"

Sherlock stands as much as he is able. John sees the gun in the taller man's right hand and freezes. Holy fuck this changes the whole game, John screams to himself.

" _No light! No light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent.... a revelation in the light of day!!! You can choose what stays and what fades away! And I do anything...... to make you stay... no light no light... tell me what you want me to say...._ " and now Sherlock was on his knees, prostrated toward John.

"I'm here what the fuck is this about?!?"

"You texts John!! Your bloody texts to your.... bloody wife.... why ARE you here? Don't you have her ARSE to get into, obviously mine was just the appetizer course, right? Do you like my dress, ... Dr. Watson? Since I'm only your whore I wanted to make sure and look the part!"

The anger in his eyes when he spoke made John absolutely panicked. Now, it all made sense! God damn those fucking texts! Damn this whole operation!!! But to save Sherlock he could. not. break cover... If only Sherlock had bothered to check any other messages he would have seen the ones from Mycroft and they could be sitting in the kitchen with tea while John explained everything but warned Sherlock to keep as is for a few more hours.

"Look, Sherlock... there are things you don't understand... I can't explain them just now but, but please, come inside. Kick me out beat me up I DONT CARE but come away from that wall and had me that gun!!!

Sherlock looked at the gun quizzically, almost as if he forgot it was there. The drugs were making their way deeper into his system. He pulled himself to the ledge until he could rest an arm on the ledge. Even in dangerous situations like this he could still look like he was on a photo-shoot.

" _Thru the crowd I was.... crying out at..._ walking those streets John after you abandoned me the first time with your 'wedding'.... _in your place there were a thousand other faces....(_ his voice lowered) _I was... disappearing in plain site!!! Heaven help me!!!! I need to make it right..."._ That was the first time Sherlock had looked over the edge. He knew the fall wouldn't kill him, but the gun would.

"Fuck Sherlock!", now John was becoming choked up, fighting back tears but his cracking voice betrayed him," _You want a resolution??? You wanna 'get right'?? Well that's a conversation... I just can't have tonight... You want a revelation? Some kind of resolution?!_ Then come from the fuckin ledge love and lets go in and have a domestic and fight this out until tomorrow, that all I need, please! Look, I I am the one on MY knees begging.... come inside love. Please?! Sherlock, for me?"

That may have worked in the past but not now. Sherlock could see a blurry outline of John on the floor. Sherlock knew he wouldn't be able to lift the gun if he waited too much longer. John could tell Sherlock was calculating, or trying to. He got desperate.

" _Would you leave me? If I told you what I've done? And would you leave me, if I told you what I've become?"_

John could see that Sherlock had made up his mind. He could also see the drugs taking over his lover's mind. Sherlock was barely able to focus on John now. But he caught his eyes for a moment... and John gave him the same nod as that night in the pool when they were prepared to die together. 

"I'll see you soon love. I promise I won't be long. Wait for me' he managed to sniffle out.

Sherlock gave him a slight twitch of the lip and in a long sigh said 'johhhhhnnnn'. Then, he put the gun directly over his heart, and pulled the trigger. John let out a wail that is one of those sounds you never know you have in you until someone you love is ripped from you. Your very soul. 

He crawled over to Sherlock and kissed his forehead. Then, John sent a message out so their bodies would be found. He took Sherlock's hand in one, and the gun in the other. Thinking was always his problem. He wasted too much time without Sherlock and too much time with him but separate. He placed the gun to his temple, and after one last calming breath of London air and a look at the clouds, he pulled the trigger. 

The message he sent out was: I cannot and will not live without him any longer. If God wishes it so may we be reunited in death. There is no world without him... will not lose him again. I barely survived the first 'death' but I cannot survive another. Goodbye. I will give him your love.


End file.
